The Slayer Chronicles
by bloodyblond
Summary: The end is just the beginning. Glory's portal doesn't lead to Buffy's death, instead it will lead to her second chance. Her second chance at love. A collection of one shots with Buffy paired with various men from various 'verses. A place where impossible becomes possible.
1. The End and the Beginning

**********Disclaimer: ****All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.**

_**A/N: Have you ever seen two different people in two different 'verses and thought to yourself, 'these two would be awesome together?' Only to bummed out when you realize that apparently you're the only person that seems to be able to see the potential? Well I decided, hell, if someone else wasn't gonna write it, maybe I should woman up and write the damn things myself.**_

_**First off, I had to choose the female lead which to revolve my pairings around, and for that I chose (drum roll please) Buffy Summers. Mostly because she proved to be the easiest to incorporate into these various 'versus... and because, thanks to the swan dive she took into Glory's Hole (c'mon I couldn't resist!) it came with a great starting off point. So obviously it's gonna be different than what actually happens (as in, it's not gonna lead to her death) but I'm getting ahead of myself here, that will be explained in this opening chapter.**_

_**And I'm gonna say right off the bat this is going to be an AU version of some of the events of that show. First off this Buffy isn't gonna be the angry, bitter, I-hate-life girl that she eventually became by the time the 5th season rolled around, right up to the DISASTROUS final season. Instead, she's gonna be more like the spunky Buffy that she was before Angel crushed her heart. Did the stuff with him happen? Yeah, but it didn't break her, she hurt, but in the end it just made her stronger. Did Riley happen? Yeah, sure, why not. Doesn't really matter anyways. And, as much as I love the guy... Spike DID NOT come back after he helped her kill Angel. Let's just pretend he and Dru lived evilly ever after, or met their dusty ends on the point of a stake somewhere. Whichever makes you happier. In the end, it's not really all that important, because this is about the after, not the before.  
**_

_**And yeah, you might consider some of these parings lame, impossible (or better yet, improbable) but, meh, to me they were a bit of alright. And in the end, they're just for fun anyways, so please don't give me a hard time about them.  
**_

* * *

Buffy blinked her eyes, rapidly trying to adjust them to the blinding whiteness of the room. The last thing she remembered was doing a swan dive into Glory's portal.

"Am I dead?" She wondered out loud.

"Not exactly, kid."

Buffy's eyes narrowed at the figure that stepped around the corner, sheepishly tipping the fedora on his head. She hadn't seen him in years (not that she missed him or anything) but recognized him immediately. "Whistler," she hissed.

He faltered slightly, obviously taken aback by the venom in the single word.

"Where am I?" She demanded. "What's going on?"

He cleared his throat. "As I was trying to say, you're not dead, you're simply in between."

"In between what?"

He shrugged. "Your past and your future."

She began tapping her foot impatiently. "Which means what exactly?"

"Why you in such a hurry? Got somewhere you need to be?"

She glared, putting the full weight of her Slayer stare behind it.

He stepped back, hands held up in submission. "Easy there Slayer, I'm just trying to tell you that your life ain't over yet. In fact, it's just beginning. You-"

She put a hand up to halt his words. "You really think I'm gonna listen to the guy who pointed Angel in my direction, but kindly left out the important details of his curse? I don't think so."

He looked frustrated. "We don't have time for this."

"Why are you in such a hurry?" She mocked. "Sounds to me like all I have is time, time I'm gonna use to ignore you." She turned her back to him, proceeding to do just that.

"Slayer..."

Buffy ignored him, lowly humming 'This Is the Song That Never Ends', and getting increasingly louder with each repeated verse of it. She knew she was being a little childish about the whole thing, but it didn't stop her from feeling a pleasant thrill of satisfaction as he unsuccessfully attempted to talk over her humming.

Buffy's humming tapered off when she noticed the sudden silence in the room, but she was still reluctant to turn around.

"It's alright. He's gone now."

Buffy slowly turned at the soft, female voice behind her and suspiciously eyed the woman who stood in Whistler's vacated spot. She was shorter than Buffy (which Buffy didn't think was even possible) and strangely plain for someone that was undoubtedly some sort of higher being. Then again, Whistler wasn't much to look at either. She had a short bob of brown hair, thick but sculpted eyebrows and thin lips that were sporting a serene smile. Her eyes were amazing; a shimmery lavender framed by thick eyelashes, and were beautiful enough to make the woman almost pretty.

The woman took a step forward, the toga like apparel she wore fluttering around her frame and motioned to two large white pillows that were suddenly in the center of the room.

"The Powers apologize for their error. They wrongly assumed you would be more willing to hear this from a familiar face."

"The PTB brought me here?" Buffy asked a mixture of confusion and anger in her voice.

"Indeed," the woman nodded. "Be seated, and I will explain."

Buffy hesitated briefly, before tentatively making her way to the pillow and easing herself in it. She couldn't help the sigh that escaped her lips as it almost tenderly encased her frame. It felt like she was sitting on a cloud.

"It is nice, no?" The woman asked with a smile.

Buffy nodded in agreement.

"Before we begin, I should introduce myself. My name is Reeza and I have been watching over you for a very long time."

"Watching over me? Like a guardian angel or something?"

"Or something," Reeza agreed.

"Well, no offense, but you've done a pretty terrible job."

Reeza lowered her eyes. "I am sorry, but I had no control over the things you experienced. Interference was strictly forbidden."

Buffy was suspicious. "What about what happened with Angel?"

An angry frown settled on her face. "Whistler was merely supposed to set the souled one on his path to redemption and, despite my warnings, he somehow got it into his head that you could be the key to that. What happened afterwards was... unfortunate. The Powers were furious when they found out, but it was already too late, the path for that plane of existence had been set."

"Unfortunate?" Buffy said lowly, struggling to choke back the anger. "That _unfortunate_ incident almost got me and everyone I cared about killed."

"I apologize for my poor wording, I am unused to talking with mortals and fear I'm not choosing my words as wisely as I should." She tilted her head, and stared thoughtfully at Buffy. "But you cannot deny that you survived, and it made you stronger than ever."

Buffy opened her mouth to refute her words, but realized she couldn't. Though she had struggled greatly, and came close to the edge many times during that torturous year of Angelus, and then the subsequent year afterwards of re-souled Angel, when she finally let go of him, finally accepted that what had happened had _not_ been her fault, she had felt stronger and freer than she ever had in her entire life. It had only been with the unfortunate arrival of Glory that she ever truly felt weak again.

Her head jerked up. "Glory?"

"Dead. The Watcher disposed or her while she was trapped in her human form."

"Giles?" She asked, stunned, she hadn't thought it was capable for him to even take a human life. But then again, Ben really wasn't human, not entirely at least. "And the others?" She asked hesitantly.

"They are fine as well. Shaken by your sudden disappearance, but slowly accepting the fact that you have passed on."

"So I am dead."

Reeza shook her head. "No, but because it allows them closure, that is what they believe."

"Well, if I'm not dead, I can go back." Buffy smiled as if she had solved all her problems with a few simple words.

"You cannot, your time on that plane has come to an end."

"But Dawn, Giles, everyone... I have to... who will protect them?" She asked desperately.

"As we speak, a new Slayer has been called. She is already making her way to Sunnydale."

"How is this happening so quickly? I've only been here for a few minutes."

"Minutes here, months there."

"How many months?"

"Three."

"And this new Slayer?" The question left a bitter taste in Buffy's mouth.

"She is a kind yet strong soul, gentle yet fierce, lenient yet unyielding. She will care for them in your absence."

"And be everything that I'm not," Buffy muttered cynically.

"Why do you think so little of yourself? It saddens me that the same people who built you up, are the same people who tore you down." She reached over and cupped Buffy's cheek with a soft hand. Buffy allowed the touch, leaning slightly into her warm palm. "Why is it you never realized this?" Reeza murmured sadly.

Buffy lowered her eyes in shame, unable to defend her Watcher and friends from the truth that was in Reeza's statement. Though it had frustrated her to no end that they held her up on a pedestal she didn't even want to be on in the first place, she was willing to overlook their faults in trade for the family that she got in return.

A family she would probably never see again.

Her shoulders slumped. "They'll be okay?" She asked wearily, realizing it would be pointless to fight. Once again her fate was in someone else's hands. Such was a Slayer's life.

"Changes will happen, necessary ones, but yes, they will be fine. The Powers have promised this much."

"And what about me, why can't they just send me home?"

"Because you have outgrown that world."

"What the hell does that mean?" Buffy asked bewilderingly.

"You have broken every barrier, climbed every hill and achieved every goal. You have reached your full potential as a Slayer on that plane. Potential fully realized when you willingly sacrificed yourself to save your sister's life. It is a feat no other Slayer has achieved before. It is impossible to go any further on that plane, when you have already reached the end. To do so would greatly upset the balance."

Buffy was unable to stop the flush of pride that stormed through her and lowered her head in shame.

"Why do you lower your head? Down there you may have felt the need to hide your true strength, for fear of making your friends feel less, but you do not have to feel that here. Here, there is no need for shame, you should be proud of your accomplishments."

Buffy closed her eyes, letting her words be a soothing balm to the feelings she had long tried to ignore. A single tear gathered in her eye, and trailed down her cheek, quickly followed by another. As the tears flowed, they were accompanied by a comforting sense of... relief. There was a soft rustle of fabric, before the pillow dipped beside Buffy and dainty arms wrapped themselves around her shoulders. She started slightly at the unfamiliar, yet not unwelcome, touch before burrowing her face into Reeza's neck and inhaling her soothing scent, distantly realizing that it was the same as her eye color. Lavender.

"Hush, hush," Reeza murmured softly, running her fingers through her hair. "It is alright to cry."

The tears fell faster and Buffy gave into them, sobbing as she huddled in her embrace. She hadn't had someone hold her like this since her mother died. After a few long moments, she pulled back and wiped the tapering tears and their remnants away. She felt strangely clean.

"Despite everything, I don't regret what I had with them," she said, meeting Reeza's eyes with a firm gaze.

Reeza smiled softly, and brushed a strand of golden hair away from her face. "Nor should you. In their own way, however misguided, they helped shape you into the woman you are, helped you reach your true potential."

Buffy pulled away completely and leaned back into the pillow. "What now?" She questioned softly.

"Now, you are needed elsewhere."

"To fight the good fight I suppose?" She replied resignedly.

Reeza smiled secretively. "Not exactly."

Buffy tilted her head curiously. "Then what?"

"To get what you deserve, of course."

"What I deserve?" She swallowed loudly. Sure, she had slayed a lot of vampires and demons, but they weren't humans right (or in a vampire's case, not anymore)? Surely all the deaths she was responsible for didn't mean she'd earned a one-way ticket to Hell. The PTB weren't that cruel. Were they?

She must have had a look on her face reflecting the tumultuous direction her thoughts had taken, because Reeza laughed loudly. "Always so quick to assume the worst, aren't you my dear?"

"Well, what do I deserve than?"

"Simple, my child, love."

"Love hurts," Buffy replied softly, remembering her parents' divorce and her one disastrous relationship after another. She'd almost prefer Hell over the pain that eventually came with love.

Reeza nodded. "That type of love does," she agreed, pointing in the direction of what Buffy assumed was Sunnydale. "Because that type of love is false. A filler for what that world can not provide for you."

"Why can't it?"

"Because your soul mate does not exist on that plane. He never has."

Buffy sputtered indignantly. "So you're saying if I remained _there_," she flailed her hand in the same direction Reeza had, "I would have never had real love? Ever?"

"Incorrect. The only reason you would have stayed on that plane is if you had not realized your full potential, which means you would have been a different woman entirely. And that woman would have had a soul mate on that plane."

"So you're saying there's some guy wandering out there right now that will never experience real love because I'm not that woman?" Buffy asked guiltily.

"Of course not, because the path had been set, that man does not exist."

"Why doesn't he?"

"Because that woman does not exist."

"What? But that doesn't... it doesn't..." She clutched at her head, the beginnings of a headache throbbing behind her eyes. The pain was almost welcome, at least now she knew for certain that she wasn't dead. "I'm so confused," she moaned.

Reeza patted her knee. "It's best if you don't think about it. It's incredibly complicated and not meant for mortals to understand in the first place." She soothed her hand over Buffy's forehead and the pain immediately went away.

Buffy shot her a grateful smile and Reeza returned it with a brilliant one of her own.

"Do you wish to discuss things further?" Reeza offered.

"No." Buffy blinked, slightly surprised at the calm assurance in her words. She knew she should be concerned, but it was a hard emotion to feel, especially when she felt a strange sensation, similar to puzzle pieces finally snapping into place. The world hadn't ended, her sister and her friends were alive and well and, if The Powers kept their word and the new Slayer was as good as Reeza said she was, would stay that way. That was all she needed to know.

Her time was over. She was done.

At least on that plane.

"So, soul mate?" Buffy hedged, unable to keep the tinge of anticipation out of her words.

"Yes," Reeza replied solemnly. "It won't always be easy, and in the beginning you will be needed in other ways, but I promise in the end it will be worth it. After all, Whistler spoke the truth; this _is _just the beginning."

* * *

_**A/N2: This chapter is basically just the set up, but will technically be connected to all the stories, which is why I left it ambiguous. Don't worry, I'm not gonna repeat this before every chapter (nor should you feel the need to re-read this before every story), instead, the stories will operate one of two ways, they'll either start in this room (obviously after this conversation has taken place) or jump right into the story, and make references (maybe big, maybe small) to what happened in this room. Hope that's not to confusing.** _

_**I'd like to say I'm open for requests, but I can only write what I know. And the truth is, I don't know a whole hell of a lot.**_


	2. Wanna Put Your Gun Against My Anatomy?

******Disclaimer: ****All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.**

_**********Soup of the Day: Repo! The Genetic Opera**_

_**********Pairing: Buffy/Graverobber**_

_**********A/N: I have no particular reason for choosing Graverobber first, only that their story proved the easiest to write. **_

_**********This is Pre-Repo, meaning it takes place before the events of the movie. As much as I wanted Buffy to bump into Nathan Wallace (CAN YOU JUST IMAGINE THE HYSTERICAL REACTION!) I didn't feel like coming up with a way to fit Buffy into those parts, because none of what happened in the movie is really relevant to the... hmm... Gruffy (SVEET! Yes, I'll probably come up with ridiculous mashups for every pairing!) relationship. **_

* * *

Buffy gazed bemusedly at the chandelier hanging from the ceiling.

She had to admit, despite the oddity of being located indoors, this was definitely the classiest graveyard she had ever been in. Had real ambiance. She half expected people in expensive dresses, gaudy jewellery and froo-froo attitudes to be wandering around exchanging stories about their charming summer homes in posh, upper-class accents.

Oh, who was she kidding? The fact that it was basically one big tomb upped the creep factor and left her feeling very unsettled and, despite the large open space, a tad claustrophobic.

She didn't even know why she was here in the first place.

_Old habits die hard,_ she mused. _Die_. She snorted as she passed an overturned tombstone. _Aren't I the witty one tonight? _

She didn't think it was possible, but the city she now reluctantly lived in had a higher death rate than Sunnydale. She remembered watching horrified as a garbage truck, a **_goddamn garbage truck_**, full of corpses was dumped carelessly into one of the mass graves that was littered about the city.

She stared angrily up at the cracked ceiling, wondering if The Powers could hear her cursing them.

She hadn't realized she was such a terrible person in her other life. Surely that was the only reasonable explanation for sticking her in this hell hole of a city. When Reeza told her that this place was _'a little rough around the edges'_, she had never imagined that this is quite what she meant.

It was literally a city of death and decay, where unpleasantness lurked around every corner, the sky was permanently gray (Buffy hadn't seen the sun once in the month she had been here. At this rate, she was afraid she'd even forget what it even looked like.) and the people were afraid to leave their houses.

She stopped and allowed the faintest smirk to grace her lips. Other than the lack of sun, this place was pretty much Sunnydale in a nutshell. She wondered how this could be considered an upgrade from her old life. Maybe it wasn't supposed to be, Reeza had said it would be hard.

At least The Powers had the decency to set her up with a place, literally dropping her onto the floor with a cheeky 'Welcome Home' sign draped across one wall. She strongly suspected Whistler had something to do with that. Ass. It was a decent size, if not a little shabby and possessed electricity and running water, which was a lot more than half of the people had in this place, so for that she was grateful.

As to why she kept the habit up of patrolling the graveyards? Wariness, she supposed. A place couldn't have this much badness without _things_ finally starting to... revolt. Although she wasn't quite sure what she'd do if something decidedly supernatural did happen. Reeza had deemed her Slayer powers unnecessary on this plane, and although she hadn't been stripped of them completely, they were significantly waned.

She scanned the area, thankful that she appeared to be alone. She wasn't the only one that patrolled these graveyards, but she was definitely a lot friendlier than the goon squad done up in full Kevlar and toting guns strapped over their shoulders.

She winced as the speakers attached to poles randomly scattered through the graveyard blared to life, a monotone and lightly accented female voice offering the same announcement it had five minutes previous, warning potential grave robbers of the penalties that would be laid against them if they weren't caught.

_So much for the sanctity of a graveyard,_ she thought. It almost made her nostalgic for the vamp and demon infested cemeteries on her own plane. At least they were quiet.

The speakers cut off with a loud screech and all was silent, for the next five minutes at least.

Buffy reached up and rubbed lightly at her temples, feeling the beginnings of a headache. She leaned against a large (and thankfully sturdy) tombstone and took a moment to enjoy the sudden silence and, like she had for the last month, tried to puzzle out exactly why she was needed here.

Her brow furrowed when a scraping noise reached her ear, followed by a grunt and than a dull thump. There was another brief moment of silence before she heard...

Buffy frowned. _Singing?_

It wasn't the overly loud, Broadway version type of singing, so she couldn't make out the exact words, but the low throaty bass of it sent a shiver down her spine. Unable to stop herself, she walked hesitantly in the direction she heard it coming from, keeping her steps as light as possible. She crept up behind an ostentatiously large tombstone in the shape of a cross and slowly peeked her head around the corner.

A figure, male judging by the wide-set shoulders shifting beneath the leather jacket, was crouched down next to a cracked casket and she knew immediately what he was doing even before he leaned to the side and she caught a look at the plastic covered corpse he was almost straddling.

_A grave robber,_ she thought, strangely excited at her very first sighting of one. She watched as he unfurled a leather pouch and withdrew an object. He held it up and the light caught the metallic surface of what she realized was a very long and wicked looking needle.

Buffy leaned closer, disgusted yet strangely fascinated, her shoulder brushing against the grey granite of the tombstone and causing a piece to dislodge and crash to the ground.

The grave robber whirled around, needle in one hand and a lethal looking blade in the other. Buffy was mildly impressed; she hadn't even seen him reach for a weapon.

"Who's there?" He hissed.

Buffy took a minute to run her eyes over him. He was attractive in a flamboyant way, shoulder length tangled brown hair shot through with colored strands, pale face and dark lips- she suspected some type of makeup was responsible for both- and a fine cut form that was covered in a long leather duster, black pants and thick-soled knee high, what Buffy labelled, Goth boots.

Despite his overall rough appearance (and the weapons in his hand), Buffy didn't feel particularly threatened by him, so she stepped around the edge and into his line of sight.

He eyed her just as intently (if not more obviously) than she had him, before lowering his hands slightly.

"You're not a GeneCop." It wasn't a question.

"How do you know?"

He lowered the weapons completely. "They have a tendency to shoot first and ask questions later."

Buffy nodded slightly. "I'm not," she agreed, before motioning to the corpse behind him. "That's illegal you know?"

Almost on cue, the speakers flared up, repeating the lines the Buffy had memorized at this point.

The man smirked, amusement in his dark eyes and waited for the lull between messages. "You gonna turn me in, Goldilocks?"

She matched his smirk. "No."

He stared at her for a long moment, no doubt weighing the truth in her words, and when she didn't make any move towards him, he shrugged and turned back to what he was doing.

Clicking the needle into an empty cylindrical barrel, he once again leaned over the corpse, completely blocking what he was doing from her view.

She found herself inching closer, disgust and fascination once again warring in her, until eventually she was right beside him, staring wide-eyed as he jammed the needle up into the nose cavity of the decaying corpse.

He didn't seem to mind her presence, if the slight quirk of his dark lips was anything to go by, and proceeded to pull on the plunger. Buffy felt her lips pull into a slight 'o' shape as the bright blue liquid filled the barrel and lit his face up with an eerie glow.

"Blue gold," he whispered softly to himself, holding the syringe up to the light and admiring its contents.

Buffy grimaced, a little disturbed that someone's brain snot could be considered a valuable commodity. And that other people willingly injected it into their bodies. Despite having not been here that long, she knew vaguely what the substance was (thanks to the warnings constantly blaring in the cemetery and the P.A's about it on her crappy television) and what it did and had absolutely no interest in it.

The grave robber seemed to think otherwise.

"So, are you that eager to get it?" He smirked up at her as he packed away his equipment.

Buffy bristled at the suggestiveness in his voice. "Is that some sort of double meaning?" She asked heatedly.

He finished sliding the glowing liquid into a protective pocket before turning and running his eyes over her heatedly. "For you, Goldilocks?" He leered. "Definitely."

Buffy composed her face into a frown, actively fighting against the bolt of attraction that shot through her at the look in his dark eyes.

_I am __**not**__ attracted to him,_ became a mantra in her head, as she searched for an excuse to deny what she was feeling. _He makes a living out of desecrating corpses. There's nothing attractive about that._

**_Weren't you doing the same thing when you beat up a vampire? _**A small voice in the back of her mind whispered. **_They are technically corpses, aren't they?_**

_Not listening. La, la, la..._

The grave robber was standing now, slinging the leather satchel over his head and Buffy was pleased that, while he was taller than her, his lithe frame didn't tower over her.

_No... No... bad thoughts._

"I'm not interested in anything you're peddling," she said snidely, slightly embarrassed at her delayed response.

He quirked a dark eyebrow. "Really?" He purred in a low, throaty tone. "Those who deny it usually want it the most."

Buffy swallowed quickly, fluttering her eyes closed as the dulcet tones washed over her. She gave her head a shake before opening her mouth, with what she hoped was a testosterone crushing retort on her lips.

Two things happened simultaneously.

The speakers came on again and a loud voice shouted, "Hey, you two!"

Both of them whipped their heads in the direction of a single figure dressed in black, still a reasonable distance away from them, but approaching swiftly, a gun leveled in his hands.

Buffy froze, her mind frantically shuffling through excuses for being here, while remembering the last few times she had been at the mercy of a gun. Though she had escaped relatively unscathed, the sight of one still invoked more fear than any set of vampire fangs ever had.

_Maybe we can make him think we're simply here paying our respects,_ she thought desperately. She had seen it before in other graveyards she had wandered through (usually withered old women wailing over a fresh grave at the weirdest hours _ever_), so she knew the lie wouldn't be that farfetched.

Any hopes of that were dashed though, when she saw the helmeted head of the figure shift to the ground at their feet, clearly seeing the corpse they were standing over and their pace increased.

"Halt!" The figure ordered loudly and she realized belatedly that the man behind her had darted forward and was lacing his hand through hers.

"C'mon!" He shouted, jerking her backwards and causing her to stumble slightly. The movement finally knocked her out of her daze and she turned, curling her fingers around the fingerless leather gloves he wore on his hand.

The grave robber proved to be surprisingly light on his feet, ducking and weaving his way expertly around the graves. Buffy matched his pace, suspecting that this wasn't the first time he had to get out of this type of situation, and put her complete trust (perhaps foolishly) that he would do it again for the both of them. He could have just left her standing there awkwardly and run, letting her take the blame for the body at her feet, but he hadn't and to Buffy, that meant something.

Instead of running in the direction of the exit, he abruptly changed course, heading towards a wall, with a large crack centered in it.

"What are you doing?" Buffy shouted as she ducked behind a tombstone just as a bullet ricocheted off it and sent a cloud of stone and gray dust spraying over her. She thanked her lucky stars that whoever this GeneCop was, not only were they slow, but they had a pretty terrible shot to boot.

She absently wondered if The Powers had anything to do with that. It would certainly explain why the back-up she had heard the man radioing for as they ran hadn't appeared yet.

She turned her attention back to the grave robber, watching him grunt as he forcefully kicked at the crack in the wall. His efforts were working, made obvious by the widening chasm that was slowly opening in the wall, but not quickly enough.

Buffy took stock of what was in the immediate area, her heart thumping loudly in her ears.

Or maybe it was just the sound of the Genecop getting closer.

She immediately zeroed in on a thick slab of tombstone, in a roughly cylindrical shape, tapering into a point at the end that was tilting heavily to the side. Crawling over to it (and praying that The Powers truly had her covered) she wrapped her hands as close to the base as she could and put all of her lingering Slayer strength behind it as she pulled.

It was stubbornly unmoving for a brief, soul-crushing second before finally giving so abruptly, the sudden momentum sent her falling on her ass.

"Oof!" She grunted harshly at the jarring pain in her tailbone and the subsequent pain in her gut as the stone crashed into her.

Scrambling to her feet, she hefted the stone into her arms, wincing as they protested at the added weight.

"Move," she ordered harshly, shouldering the grave robber out of the way. She knew that they had mere seconds before the GeneCop got close enough to _not miss _and possibly only had one shot for this to work. Curling her hands as securely around the tapered end as she could, she took a deep breath, dug her feet in and swung hard enough to put The Great Bambino to shame.

The cry that fell from her lips was one of pain and victory, as the impact reverberated through her arms, cracking the stone in half and sending a portion of the wall tumbling down. Just enough for her and the grave robber to slip through.

"Ladies first," he mumbled, and she could hear the awe in his voice.

Dropping the remains to the ground, she dove through the opening without the slightest thought of what was on the other side.

The ground gave out a slight squishing noise as she fell, followed by a crunch as the grave robber tumbled through beside her. She scrambled to her feet, worried that he had broken something in the fall. He didn't appear to be hurt as he got to his feet, eying something behind her with a gleeful smile.

"Score," he murmured victoriously to himself.

Buffy turned, curious to see what had so thoroughly distracted him from the fact that they were still being chased. Gagging, she immediately wished she hadn't looked.

They were currently standing off to the side of what was obviously a mass grave, the bodies piled up like Hell's twisted version of a pyramid, while still more were being dropped through the gaping hole in the roof. She could hear the dull thunk each body made as it hit the corpse covered ground.

"Oh god..." Tears prickled at the corners of her eyes, both from the overwhelming sight and the noxious stench. She had seen a lot in her life, but this was almost too much. She could feel her sanity fraying at the edges and knew if she stayed a moment longer, her mind would completely snap.

She turned to the grave robber, who was fiddling with the bag at his side.

"We don't have time for this," she snarled, her point confirmed by the bullet that suddenly zinged over their head.

He looked reluctant to leave, even as the shouts grew closer and Buffy put the full strength of her Slayer stare behind her eyes (the same one that had turned demons into cowering messes) and tugged his face down to her level.

Meeting his dark eyes with her own blazing hazel, she spoke lowly, "Get. Me. Out. Of. Here. Now."

It was his turn to gulp, as he vigorously nodded his head.

"This way," he said, once again wrapping his hand around hers.

There appeared to be an almost beaten path around the bodies and Buffy queasily wondered if he had been down here before. Bringing her hand up to her nose, she attempted to block out the smell of putrefaction and focused her eyes on the grave robbers leather covered back, resolutely ignoring the sounds underneath her feet.

_I am burning these boots as soon as I get home._ She remembered the few seconds she had spent sprawled on the ground. _And these clothes too while I'm at it._

After a few long, tense minutes, Buffy felt a waft of fresh air brush against her face and her knees almost buckled in relief.

The grave robber seemed to sense her distress, squeezing her fingers slightly. "Almost there," he promised soothingly, maneuvering them out through a gap in the wall large enough for them to walk through and into a deserted alleyway.

Once they were a decent distance away from the opening, Buffy took a few large grateful gulps of air. She had always found the air around here to be rather dirty, with a constant smoky scent, but right now it was as pure as the driven snow.

He continued walking and Buffy clung tightly to his arm as they kept to the alleys, staying in the shadows and pausing briefly as a group of GeneCops passed by the corner they were huddling against. The grave robber appeared to be walking aimlessly, no real destination in mind other than simply getting them as far away from the scene of the crime as possible and Buffy was content to follow him.

A few people apparently recognized him, approaching and begging for his wares, but he brushed them all off, pulling her closer and pushing though the clustered groups. Buffy found herself sinking into his embrace. Though her friends had largely considered her unbreakable, there were times when she was desperate for a comforting embrace, but was unable to ask for it, afraid that they would somehow think less of her. But here, with no one to judge, she angled her body towards him, soaking up the comfort he seemed all too willing to give.

He finally stopped in a pretty well lit alley way and turned to her, bracing his hands on her arms. "You alright?" He asked softly, genuine concern in his voice.

Buffy exhaled a shuddery breath. "I'm-" _about to cry_ "- I... I'll deal," she settled for instead. "I always do," she muttered bitterly under her breath.

His staring unnerved her and desperate to shift his attention, she asked, "What's your name?"

He blinked. "My name?"

She shrugged. "We just escaped from the GeneCops and tramped our way through a smorgasbord of rotting corpse guts. Stuff like that bonds people for life, so I feel it's only fair." She blushed lightly at the end of it; she really hadn't meant to include the 'bonded for life' part.

His lips quirked. "Call me Graverobber."

She laughed, the sound slightly hysterical thanks to the adrenaline and fear still coursing through her veins, amused that he went by the same name she had been unconsciously referring to him as in her head.

"Your name is Graverobber? What were your parents thinking?"

He shrugged and Buffy got the feeling his name was a closed subject. It was weird, but she was willing to accept it. For the most part.

"I can't call you that," she said stubbornly.

He cocked his head as he eyed her.

_Man, this guy really likes to stare. _She could almost see him come to a decision.

"Call me Graves."

"Graves," she repeated, rolling the name around on her tongue. Still strange, but she decided it fit.

He nodded, and she noticed his attention had shifted to her lips as she pronounced his name. She slicked her tongue over their sudden dryness.

His eyes darkened. "And what do I call you?" He asked huskily.

_Anything you want._ "Buffy."

"Buffy?" He asked, amusement in his voice. It was obvious what his next line would be.

"Don't even," she warned lowly.

He grinned and it lit up his rugged features. She had a feeling that, while attractive, underneath his harsh makeup he was even more so. She wondered if he ever took it off, if, like the swagger that had briefly overtook his countenance when the people had approached them in the streets, it was simply a part he played. A mask he hid behind. It didn't make her think any less of him; living in this world she knew it was a necessity.

There was a touch of that confident swagger in his stance as he looked at her, only with a little less arrogance this time.

"Feel like getting something to eat, Buffy? I find myself strangely... hungry." He shot her a toothy grin.

Despite the innuendo in his words, not unlike what he said to her in the graveyard, Buffy felt herself smiling back, before her lips fell slightly when she realized she was going to have to decline. After tonight, she didn't know if she would ever feel like eating again.

"I don't..."

Her stomach growled in protest, the nausea replaced by a swift stab of hunger pains. She almost gaped down at it, surprised that she was still even capable of feeling hungry after _that_. She supposed the small meal she had ate before she left the house, she did a quick calculation, _four_ hours ago was responsible for that.

She looked up at a smug Graves and sighed lightly. "I _suppose_ I could go for something."

That same grin, the one that was quickly becoming her favorite, stretched his lips. "Not much is open at this hour, but there's a bar a couple of blocks over that serves some decent fare."

She knew exactly what bar he was talking about, and that place was little more than a dive. It'd be safer to eat out of the dumpster than it would there.

Finally paying attention to her surroundings, she suddenly realized she recognized this alley way. They were only a few minutes away from her shoddy little house. Perhaps it was a bit foolish of her to invite a practical stranger back to her house, but, just like in the graveyard, she felt like she could trust him. She felt like there was something more to him than most people realized, felt like he could be something more to her if only she took the chance that was being given.

And for once, without the weighty, judgmental stare of her friends and Watcher behind her, she was taking it.

"I have a better place in mind."

"Where?"

"My place."

His lips tilted in a deliciously heated smirk and Buffy fought a full body shudder as she waggled her finger at him. "Uh uh, mister. I'm inviting you to my place for food, not to get lucky."

Despite the many obvious retorts he could have had for that sentence, Buffy was pleased when he decided to nod instead, offering his hand. "Lead the way."

With a shy smile, Buffy took his hand and began pulling him in the direction of her house, mentally cataloging the food she had in her cupboards, deciding she'd splurge and cook that hard to come by piece of steak she had managed to get her hands on. It seemed The Powers had wished to make up for the run-down state of her home with a rather flush bank account, one that would allow her to live comfortably for quite some time. At the time, it hadn't made up for the loneliness she felt, but now, she shot a quick look at the man beside her, she wasn't quite so alone anymore.

Yes, she decided, the steak would do nicely and maybe one of the cans of corn she had stuffed in her cupboard and...

She paused and glanced down at her soiled clothing, grimacing as she suddenly remembered what she initially planned to do as soon as she got home.

_Definitely taking a long, hot shower first._

She snuck a peek at Graves' clothes, but, thanks to the dark fabrics, couldn't really tell if they were any worse for wear.

_Can't take the chance,_ she decided. _He'll have to shower too. And we'll have to do our part to conserve water of course... _

She grinned up at him slyly.

She lied.

He was _so_ getting lucky tonight.

* * *

_**A/N2: So what'd you think of the randomness of the first pairing? Are you cursing me for leaving you with nothing more than that little tease at the end? Well, I hate to tell you this, but most of my stories are gonna be like this. I'm not gonna be full out kablamy relationships, but will be giving you tastes of the possibilities instead. Some will be long stories, some may be short and the updates will be random, really whenever I get get ideas for a new story (and write if of course).**_

_** I'm really trying to do three things here, hone my writing skills, get these damn ideas OUT OF MY HEAD, and possibly encourage other authors to give these pairings a chance.** _


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